Just finished a massive steak dinner—steak, mashed potatoes, onion rings, breadsticks, chips, and a whole two-liter of soda—yet here I am, completely overstuffed and barely able to waddle around, and I’m already getting hungry again. My belly is so swollen and tight, but I can feel that familiar craving creeping in, begging for more. Guess there’s always room for seconds when you’re this addicted to growing!
Waking up as a fat person feels like coming home. The first thing I notice is the heavy, comforting weight of my rotund belly pressing down on the mattress. It takes a few tries, heaving myself up again and again, just to sit up in bed. When I finally manage to stand, my belly wobbles and jiggles, swaying with every movement, and it lets out a low, hungry growl. I can’t ignore its demands; I’m a slave to its hunger, and nothing makes me happier than indulging it. I’m addicted to the feeling of getting heavier, each day adding more softness to my growing frame. Satisfying my endless appetite feels like the only way to start my day.
Before and after my fat ass downed a huge pizza lunch 🥵🫠😶🌫️ large pizza with bacon pepperoni and roast chicken, two orders of breadsticks and a two liter.. I’m fat 😶🌫️😶🌫️🫠🫠🐷🐷